The last rings
by Celica
Summary: The last rings, set 500 years after the Lord of the rings. My first ever fanfiction so go easy on it.


The last Rings  
  
I charted where she had traversed the past day on the middle-earth map, a relic over 500 years old, dating to the time of Frodo and Gandalf the Grey, maybe even to the time of bilbo's book (a hobbits tale, there and back again). Carefully I stowed it in my pack, and set up camp, all the while, watching, to be sure nothing crept up on me. Mirkwood was not a place to take chances. I'll show them all, my father and mother; who had not thought being a warrior was suitable for a well-bred wood-elf. My teachers; for scorning me, just for being a girl, it wasn't like I could help it. My brother, Jerome; I'll go back and get revenge on, for all those snide comments; I could beat him any day - without magic. How dare Jerome say I was scared of enchantments. I don't want to be a sorcerer like him, which was the only reason I avoided magic, NOT because I'm was scared of it.  
  
Finally, after building a huge crackling fire, to scare off all manner of beasts, I settled down for the night. The soft light of the fire cast little light on my features, so all you could make out was the deep blue eyes, surrounded by a sea of brown hair, that, out of its braid, flowed over my shoulders and on to the pillow, in a glistening wave. Appearances can be deceptive.  
  
Listening to the soft noises in the distance, I thought about what I had to do; make my way threw Mirkwood and recover some small treasure for the elf- king. Then I would have earned her "courquet" (The 3rd highest rank in the elf fighting order) and have proved that girls are just as good. I would be the first female to do so and being a wood-elf the most unlikely (I am only 4 foot). Even thought, the order had been going for almost 500 years. It was started just after the destruction of the one ring.  
  
As I lay there thinking triumphant thoughts, I heard a scream, about 1.3 km away, my mind - out of long habit - quickly calculated. It could be a trap, if I was to rush blindly in I would be caught, or it could be my brother. Yet a wood-elf of the fighting order is sworn to protect. The second scream that cut the air decided me. I quickly gathered my most treasured items. Black, bat skin cape; sword; and silver "denoill" badge, denoting my current rank (Hopefully soon to be changed). Slung my bow and arrows over my back and set off Northeast, threw the rough undergrowth. The travelling was harsh, (even for a wood-elf) and me being as young as I am (75) it took me several minutes to get there. Reaching the approximate area, I slowed, careful, less I am caught off guard.  
  
Before my eyes thick wens, spun from the enemy of all wood-elves - Spiders, closed off the clearing. I was trapped! Drawing her elven wrought blade (Exira) it glimmered, casting an eerie glow on the surroundings. Looking up at the massive oak trees, for a way to escape (typical of a wood-elf, takes to the trees), I spotted two netted bundles, obviously the work of the spiders. The bundles were clearly larger than any beast of Mirkwood. I sighed, I am bound to protect, and help, humans. Judging by the sword peaking out of one, I might have help, IF I could get him free in time, and IF the spider's poison didn't affect him (assuming it's a him) too badly. Oh well, life is for living, I thought as she charged at the closest spider. Swiping left and right, the spiders were pathetically easy to kill, for someone of my skill, and I moved towards the tree. The danger lay in them overwhelming me. They drew back as I approached, and I advanced with my sword out in front, like a torch. Being a wood-elf had its advantages (along with the disadvantage of being 4 foot tall) and I was up that tree trying to cut him free with Exira (her sword) all the while worrying if he would manage to get on the branch, without falling, him being a human. (Notorious for their lack of climbing ability)  
  
To my surprise, when the last thread gave, he twisted, and his lithe body planted its self beside me. The tall not unhandsome man grinned down, his brown eyes, dark black in the dim light of the moon, much to my embarrassment I blushed. I sternly ordered myself back to the matter at hand. But not in time he, trying to be a hero, swung down and drew his sword yelling out "Watch my back". By his actions, not his words, I got the meaning, (for I couldn't speak but Basic English) and strung an arrow ready. When he finally reached the bottom, the spiders advanced, he held his ground, and I was surprised to see how well he fought (for a human) ducking and weaving, not letting a spider get a single thread around him. I took out the most dangerous of them from my tree top perch. The spiders, after many casualties, gave up and sauntered away.  
  
Cutting his companion free, I yelled a warning, just in time for him to catch the young lady that fell. Seeing my surprised look, he tried to explain why this obvious court lady was with him. His explanations fell on deaf ears, for I could not make sense of what he said, and no longer wanted to. Finding her self in an annoying and embarrassing situation, all I wanted to do was go on with my quest. As I walked away the young lady came to, and swore in a very unladylike way, what surprised me more was that she swore in elvish. She then went on to gabble in the same foreign tongue as the boy, and disgusted I walked off.  
  
The next day, as I headed off again, I promised myself I would stay to the beaten track. Reaching the corner I came across a cottage and farmyards, curious and hopeful of a soft bed for the night I ventured up to the door. It opened before me, and another human male (the forest seemed full of them) invited me in. Surprisingly he addressed me in elvish and asked a peculiar question "Would you happen to be the young lady that rescued Prince Adram and Lady Delia, last night?" I stiffened at the 'young lady' but asked despite myself. " If they were the ones spun up, by the spiders?" He grinned and offered me a drink. "They will be most relieved to find you well" I made myself reply courteously "I am quite capable to take care of my self. Which is more than you can say for them!" He smiled "Of course denoill (courteously including my rank, obvious by my badge) you are the first female in the fighting order, I have heard of." It was a good job Adram and Delia entered then or I would have hit him, he knew I was the first, so no need to insult me like everyone else did. I dragged my self to my feet, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Adram, Lady Delia." I courteously greeted them. In the light of day, Adram, was every bit the hansom prince, and Delia the fair maiden, with her blond tresses, and blue eyes, she was also well endowed, like all court ladies. Delia replied quite fluently, while Prince Adram (note to self, must remember he's a Prince, although in this light he looked the part) stumbled and hesitated, his Elvish was as good as my English. "What brings you to these parts, Prince Adram" He grumbled a reply in English "Don't call me Prince, I no longer am one." Delia translated, and started to tell of their exile by Mattabas, his lie to the court that they were dead, and his rise to the throne. At first I thought it was a fairy tail, and a far fetched one at that, with her giving up everything to be with him. They planned to regain the throne, thought how, I don't know. "You plan to rule together?" I wondered, then realised I had spoken out loud. Delia laughed and replied, " We are great friends, and were betrothed at birth, that's all." Strangely, those admissions made me feel better. It wasn't till much later I realised I had a serious crush on the Prince of Eriador. When they enlisted me to their aided, I begged time to consider, unable to say no to Adram. I did consider, and in the end gave, I was going towards Rivendale to make my pledge of allegiance anyway, and they would be company at best, and Delia a hindrance at worst.  
  
Seeing how Adram had fought the other night, I doubted he would be any hassle. As we set off I said farewell to the uncourteous human, whose house I had guested in, and headed off down the road. Before an hour was up I could tell neither would slow me down. We were soon out of Mirkwood, and negotiating the countryside, it was a good time for travel; it rarely rained, the days were long, and the nights not to cold. Reaching Rivendale, I confirmed my allegiance to the elf order. I then consulted Elrond on the matter of Prince Adram and Lady Delia. At first he dismissed them as unimportant, but when I told of the cruelty of Mattabas, and how he ruled, he agreed to convene the White Council, on the behalf of the halflings, Hobbits, living in the area. As everyone knew of their great deeds in the battle of the one ring, I did not need to ask why.  
  
The white council listened when I explained, then tried to dismiss it. "What is it to do with us?" I answered defensively, "We are sworn to protect," and was interrupted, "We do not meddle in others business, who, and how they rule is not up to us." Elrond (I don't know why) came to my assistance "These are changing times, this is a major turning point in our future. Will you ignore it?" It was put to the vote, and we just scraped threw. Most people did not think it important, so they sent the most junior representees; Mangayia, an elf (like me in looks, thought much taller and with blond hair), Nyral, the youngest dwarf, yet to prove himself, and surprisingly a wizard saw it fit to accompany us. Robinalf, who looked every bit the wizard, with his long grey hair and beard, his staff in one hand, and dark piercing eyes always seeming to be embedded in a book. So we set out, Adram, Delia, Mangayia, Nyral, Robinalf, and me, similar to the fellowship in everything but numbers - and a lack of Hobbits.  
  
Our first task was to go to the palace itself, and see what we could find out. The palace guards, the usurpers, and the evil spirits (and their orc counter parts) Adram had told us about would still be under the illusion that Adram and Delia were exiled in Mirkwood, but it would not take them long to find out. Reaching the outskirts of Persayba (Eriador's capital, home to the imperial family) we saw two hobbits hurrying away, one was slimmer than the other and obviously female. Under their hoods you could make out sandy hair and typical hobbit features. "What brings you here this time of night" Adram confronted them. They turned startled, then rejoiced to see their Prince, "We were on our way to Mirkwood, only just hearing that you yet live." That solves the hobbit problem.  
  
We no longer needed to go to the palace to find out about Mattabas and his forces, as they were able to give us current information. Acacia and Cornelius (the hobbits) told us the worst news; he has one of the seeing stones. The only way to cloud them was with a great ring, or another seeing stone. Not knowing of a stone, we were left with Narya, the only great ring I knew about and that was in the lair of Smang, I did not fancy bargaining with a dragon. Having no other choice, great rings as uncommon as they are, we set out for Smang at Isengard, the once great, but now destroyed fortress, in Rohan. The king was offering a great reward for the defeat of Smang, which would do nicely for my quest. I still needed a trinket for the elf king.  
  
To get to Isengard we must go over the misty mountains, or threw Moria. Going threw Moria is not as difficult as you no longer have the threat of the balrog, but the odd orcs would still be to much for our small party - if they detected our presence.  
  
The group put it to a vote; the consensus was to go over the misty mountains. So up we trudged, lagging behind in most cases because of our lack of stature was the hobbits and I. As we reached the top it began snowing. We walked along hugging the cliff side for fear of the drop, and Mangayia stopped to consult Robinalf. "I am surprised we are not yet dead, for he must know we are here, IF he has a seeing stone." No one trusts anyone anymore. "I can stop his followers from seeing us, but that will make us all the more visible, on the seeing stone." He sighed, "there's not much I can do about that, I'm not Gandalf." Robinalf stated, and began a spell of concealment. I was going to ask him why he didn't use Alanasaban, (much more powerful) when I smiled; I wasn't the wizard.  
  
"Adram is not dead Mattabas! I thought you said you killed him." Nakquan (the mastermind behind the throne, the guy that planed to take over middle- earth, and the guy that put the E in Evil) demanded, "I exiled him, my lord." Mattabas answered. "You presumed that would be enough, you are not so much of a king - to kill." Quivering Mattabas begged, "My lord, they will be dead by next sunrise." He hesitated, and then forced on, "Pray tell, where are they?" Nakquan flickered over the seeing stone, growing in his anger. He gathered himself under control, "Your impertinence will be the last of you. They are at the pass, on the misty mountains."  
  
As Mattabas stuttered, Nakquan, king of Methundi, vanished. While Mattabas waited for his orc commanders to answer his summons, Alexbany, Nakquan's daughter, and his much-hated Queen entered, "Why do you summon your commanders at this hour? Have you word from my father?" She wheeled, perching herself on his lap. She was 21, a young gorgeous girl, with flaming red hair (from her father), and green eyes, compared to the king, who was 48, wrinkled, brown haired and eyed, very boring, and with as much charm as a boiled egg; it made you wonder what the world was coming too." I do so love to hear from him." That statement was as far from the truth as possible, there was no love lost between Alexbany and her father. Especially since he arranged her marriage to Mattabas, not particularly her choice. "Your father says Adram must be killed." He gloated knowing it was her that had spared them their lives. She parried, "and you are the one to do that. Jesayba, who you know hasn't yet been wrong, predicts your orcs will fail." Her cousin, Jesayba, was a mighty sorcerer, and unfortunately for Mattabas, he had fallen in love with her, thinking her to be daughter, not cousin, of Nakquan. Jesayba was by no means as pretty as Alexbany, but being a sorcerous had her own charms, and at least she was closer to Mattabases age. Alexbany knew about their affair (well, their thing, as Alexbany and Mattabas are only married on paper, you can't really call in an affair.) and took great pleasure in taunting her cruel husband. "I'm sure Jesayba will take the time to deliver her prediction personally." Mattabas, the slime ball, gave as good as he got, "Then I will know how Adram dies." Alexbany, knowing that anything she said would only make his death more painful, sauntered off. Alexbany's one weakness was Adram, once a proposed husband, when Mattabas exiled him and claimed the throne; her father had forced her into Mattabases arms, not the young Prince Adram, who she now sighed over. Strange how the world turns, she had once been distressed at the thought of Adram having her hand (in marriage).  
  
After making it safely over the mountains, I was relieved to find the weather became much warmer. With spring well on the way hunting was good, and we put on the weight we had lost that winter. To get to Isengard, or what's left of it, we decided (didn't consult me) to pass through Fangorn Forest, if the ents would let us. Ents having the strength of trees, able to crush rock to gravel, just as the roots of a tree can, but in moments, instead of decades, are not something to scorn. If they didn't notice us we might be ok, but if they did (very likely), apart from being subject to a lengthy entmoot, our lives would be (yet again) in danger. We were about two steps in (ok, maybe a few more) when the ents surrounded us, calling loudly for an entmoot. When all the ents arrived, the debate began - not all ents are non-violent. Three days later we were aloud to present our case, before we spoke we were offered (it had become a bit of a tradition) the brew Entdraught. Entdraught makes you grow to your full height. After which I grew one foot, I was now a grand total of five feet. Five feet is tall for a wood-elf. While the debate continued around them my companions stated their case. We each got a chance as the entmoot dictated. By the time it came to my turn I was a tad impatient, "That's enough, we get our say, and out of politeness YOU SHOULD LISTEN!" Voice rising as it fell quiet. Before I lost my nerve I continued. "We are passing through here to get to Isengard, NOT to hurt any trees, NOT to trespass, and NOT to steal your brew or kill you. We are, I repeat, we are passing through to Isengard, so Prince Adram can reclaim the throne, unjustly taken, and Mattabas won't take over middle-earth (at this point we were un aware of Nakquan, and the fact that Mattabas was only a puppet). HE would kill you, WE couldn't and wouldn't!"  
  
Fangorn the ent leader smiled, "It is true, we have heard the tales of this untrue king, and his destruction of the forest surrounding, you have my blessing to go." Fangorn was the eldest and wisest of the ents (the forest was named after him), and very influential. After 2 more long days of debating we were aloud to pass threw Fangorn Forest.  
  
Once we reached the out skirts of the forest, it was only several days of hard travel, until we reached Isengard. We decided to bed down for the night and sleep on a strategy for. acquiring the ring (Narya). Soon the battlelines were drawn, two equal teams (trade and force) with the odd one calling for blackmail - So much for sleeping. When Mangayia tried to recruit me for her cause (trade, as an elf should call for) I walked off, wondering if maybe I held the saying "United we stand, divided we fall," to close to heart. Hearing Robinalf approach I climbed up the nearest oak tree, cursing as he faced me. Yet although I'm not a wizard. I grinned and lit up the branch enough to see his startled face as I put in to action the best concealer I knew. Let him beat that. He waved his staff to no avail, and finally giving up, set back off to camp - cursing all the way. I settled down for the night, much happier in the tree than on the ground - another thing that goes with being a wood-elf.  
  
Waking up I found myself sitting on something harder than a tree branch, still with my eyes closed I felt around; pearl necklaces, diamond rings, jewel incrusted tiaras. I opened my eyes to the inevitable site - a dragon's hoard. The dragon, a huge crimson affair, with sparkling gold under belly, glared down at me, "What gives you the right to disturb my slumber?" I froze, did I say that out loud. I thought that was the dragon's line. He (assuming it's a he) threw back his head and roared, I tensed then realised he was laughing! I was pleasantly surprised to find dragons (well this one at least) to be nice talkable chaps. We had just got round to the matter of my quest, when the rest of the party stormed in. Over the silence that fell, I introduced the dragon (Smang) to my battle ready companions. You should have seen their faces, all geared up for battle, and they found me enjoying a tea party like scenario. Finally Mangayia spoke, "There isn't time for this; the orcs will be here soon!" Orcs, now when did they appear? I was pretty sure they weren't there when I last checked. I grinned, "They plan to attack a dragon? While we're waiting, perhaps Adram might want to explain why we're here" With some hesitation, there was a lot of apprehension, considering the size of the party of orcs.  
  
After a recital of our journey (so far) the dragon agreed to give us Narya (the ring, imperative to Adram's quest to take back the throne) on the condition that we would come back and tell him how it went (return the ring). We readily submitted on the condition that if we died we wouldn't be obliged to return it.  
  
Just then the orcs rammed the door "They mean to attack?" How crazy are they? We have a dragon, and we're not afraid to use it. As we readied our selves the dragon took up residents on the chandelier, ready to flame. As they burst in, Robinalf, Mangayia and I, with the help of Smang, my new friend, took out the first line. Gees those orcs are hideous. After that the fighting got intense, Acacia, the hobbit not quite so proficient in combat as cookery, was cornered and as Smang flamed to the rescue, an arrow was on a fatal projectory, but instead of the intended Smang, Delia, in fatal heroism, dived in the way.  
  
Soon after that it was all over - other than the deceased Delia, and Acacia (wounded by a deep sword cut down her mid-arm, something we, with help from Smang's friend, and our limited medical supplies, could fix) the rest of us escaped with little more than scratches and bruises. After the burial we were approached by a very cute guy, loaded with pastries, his hair was cropped semi-short, and his eyes glittered with humour, although he hadn't participated in our skirmish he gave the appearance of fitness and combat readiness. "Ah, Cinobac, I was wondering when you'll show." the dragon drawled. Cinobac bowed deeply to Smang (the dragon) and set out dinner. "How are the passes? Our guests need to continue on their quest." The dragon queried his friend Cinobac. "The night goers pass and consekana are guarded by the rest of the army of orcs, the rest by the uruk-hai." (The higher bread of orcs) "Very well Cinobac, I will discharge you on your last duty - accompany and help Celica, and the party, on their quest." The dragon instructed the tall and very hansom man. "But . I mean, I thank you graciously my lord, and it's not like I don't want to go, but how will you cope?" Cinobac replied. "I managed pretty well without you. Besides," Smang said giving a little, "you can come back and tell me all about it - after the quest." The command in those words was impossible to mistake.  
  
Jerome, my traitorous brother, was seen approaching the palace late the next day, precious few people knew why.  
  
He rode into the city and straight up to the tower at Mattabas's request. "I will introduce you to Nakquan. Don't be late!" By the time he reached the top of the tower it was growing dark, the stone set in the middle of the room, glowing eerily, in contrast to the dim sky outside. The sparkling stars providing a backdrop to the stone, it seemed to glow, yet at the same time was the darkest black you could imagine. When an apparition appeared gleaming above the stone Jerome startled and grabbed a firmer grip on 'his' ring. One of the things he had taken with him when he left home, just after his sister, Celica. He knew, and thought he was the only one to know, the true nature of his treasured gem. Nakquan's flickering mouth formed into a benignant smile, "and who is this you have brought today?" Mattabas introduced Jerome and the fact he was there to swear allegiance, well, to join their cause. Jerome refused to be tied to anyone, which would make them able to boss him around; he had enough of that from his sister. "Why, may I ask, does he want to? And why should we let him?" Gesturing at Mattabas to let Jerome answer. "You are the most powerful, and ruling side." Jerome answered carefully, and then rushed on, "You are also against my sister." At length he added tartly as the silence stretched on, "Do you consider me unworthy?" Nakquan smiled, it was more like the malicious grin all villains had. I think it was then that Jerome wondered what he had got himself into. Unfortunately, it was too late to go back. "Of cause not, and that.ah, trinket you carry would easily convince me other wise, IF I did." Mattabas shuddered, but forebode to ask how Nakquan knew about the power of the ring, something Jerome had only recently figured out himself. "Should not the ring go to our best sorcerer, Jesayba?" Mattabas suggested, knowing she would thank him most graciously for Vilya (the great ring Jerome carried about). Nakquan considered, tactics vs. his hatred of Mattabas, it would be sensible to let Jesayba have the ring, but he, like his daughter, wasn't partially fond of his son-in-law, Mattabas. Sensibility won out, "Jesayba may have the ring." Then he grinned, he had a way to take Mattabas out of the question, "Jerome, as your first duty you will give it to her and tell her all you know about it." He waited to see Mattabas's face fall, and then was gone.  
  
The party was currently travelling towards Rivendale, when Celica, lagging behind as usual, was discovered missing, what's more she was the one in possession of the ring (coincidence, I think not), Smang, my loyal friend, trusting no one else had given it into her keeping (I don't see why he didn't give it to me, Cinobac), or was it for another reason. It seemed like yet again the quest would fail, the ring being important to take back the throne, and save Middle-Earth. I (the dragons friend, who should knew as much, if not more, than the average person about that ring) had the plan of rescue. So down they sat in a circle and the wizard summoned her to them, like I instructed, and when she failed to materialise, them to her. Robinalf was not going to let Celica's magic best him again. Celica was sitting in the middle of our circle, crouched behind a rock, peering at something. We instinctively turned to look. An older looking lady, with a strained expression in her green eyes and full lips, and a guy stood there, tall and controlled, obviously younger and more resilient. As they stared, mesmerized, (not I, the others of our party) the lady began chanting, and was joined by the younger man. One after another the party began walking forwards, towards them, Acacia, Nyral, Cornelius, and Adram. Robinalf, Cinobac and Celica held there ground. The chant rose in volume, the guy's lower tones contradicting and supporting (although that sounds impossible) the woman's higher tune. Robinalf realised he was walking towards the ring they held between them. It glowered and shined; giving the impression it resented being looked at. But still Celica and I resisted. Celica who it was directed at froze and refused to budge, she would not give in to her brother; yet she had no will or energy to fight back. When it seemed that all was lost, I (the tall hansom one, who was standing behind her, barely visible to the chanting couple) raised my arms and began chanting. Braking the spell holding Celica and as she joined me, the two figures vanished in a cloud of purple smoke, which, when it cleared, revealed everybody back in the real world, and Celica with us. All that was left to sort out was a bemused Robinalf, who was wondering how two untrained people had broken an advanced spell - such knowledge was strictly guarded.  
  
Celica slipped off the ring and lay down where she was. She was exhausted. As exhausted as you can get, brought on by magic. I carefully picked her up and carried her to the campfire, before Robinalf began his tirade, on me. "Explain yourself, how did you know what to do? And how did you resist the Samorca Chant? It has never been done before." I sighed, this would take some explaining, "My lord, Smang" the dragon we're indebted to, the others silently added in their heads as I paused, having a dragon for a friend sure is cool, "had an extensive library, and I did not resist the chant - Celica did." I carried on "It was aimed at her, indirectly at you, and she used her magic, much more than they expected by the look of it, to push the pull of the chant away from herself and me." Here I paused "How she did it, we'd all like to know. YOU'RE the magician, so you tell us." Not the complete truth, but no one tells everyone everything. Besides, I don't really understand it myself, I thought, smiling as I bent down to check Celica was ok. She is a remarkably pretty girl; she looks so young and vulnerable. Yet, you can't get more far from the truth than that.  
  
I came round later that night; my head was beating like a drum. A reluctant groan, in true heroine style, broke the silence. Quietly I glided away from the camp, careful not to wake anyone. I was on my guard because of the attack, and wondered what had made my brother try to kill me; we hadn't hated each other that bad. I cautiously made my way to the stream and, like all fairy tales, Cinobac, my romantic hero, followed me just as quietly. I reached out her hand and a ball of fire lighted my way, magic had never been so easy. All those times I'd suppressed it, it had just grown stronger, last night I had realised its true potential, and what I could do with it. Time for a show! Cinobac watched as I crossed to the riverbank and alighted upon the nearest tree, I lay on the low branch, water trickling through my fingers, wondering what to do first.  
  
As she laid there, a bright light circling her, I wondered what she would do, I hadn't known her for too long so, I guess I was nervous, I liked her ever so much. Her mind, and reasoning had fled in the face of her recognition of the power she had. I stared as a change came over her, she glowed, it seemed as if her very skin was on fire, slowly it moulded in to a new shape, the shape of a goddess - it seemed even a wood-elf of the fighting order was self conscious. She settled and looked up, into my eyes, and she motioned to me, yet I backed away unsure in the face of a stranger. I knew it was her, but still. She smiled and settled back into her own body; with all its flaws I loved it more than the fake person she had been.  
  
When everyone else woke up, Robinalf in particular, was most expressive that Cinobac and me not wander off again. He also proposed he teach us 'two aspiring young wizards,' his words, on our return journey to Rivendale. For two months we journeyed and each morning at the crack of dawn Robinalf, Cinobac and I would practice, sometimes Manguayia would watch, and by the way Robinalf acted it was obvious it was no great coincidence they were both on the quest together. I had wondered why a wizard would come. A wizard and an elf, years ago there'd have been an uproar, but Aragorn and Arwen had smoothed the way for cross species romances. I wonder what I would choose, immortal life, or Cinobac, I mean, love.  
  
When they reached Rivendale Elrond was most gracious, welcoming the guests he had not yet met. He then relieved me of the ring and went to his tower for three days and three nights. When he came down he seemed on edge, "I can not find out more than that they do have the stone, and something else." Elrond spoke, more to himself than anyone else. "That could, perhaps be a ring, we did see one between the two sorcerers." Cinobac suggested, he then explained, about the circumstance, and the two people. "Celica, you know something, but for the life of me I can't find out what." Elrond queried, he looked confused, I suppose his magic had never encountered a barrier as thick as the one I had just erected, idle conversation continued around us while he thought about the couple and their ring, and how they could be connected to our current dilemma. "The young gentleman, the wizard, is my brother, he always said he would be a great wizard." I blurted out. "He did not particularly like having you as a sister either, did he?" Elrond stated. I sighed but said no more. Elrond added, "The ring would certainly explain why I can't overwhelm them, but I think there's more to it than that ." He was silent as he thought. When everyone realised he would say no more they wandered off to discuss the meeting in groups. Cinobac cornered me and for once I didn't want to see him. "Why didn't you tell me?" he hissed. I just shrugged and disappeared; my concealer was getting a lot of work recently. He fumed over my disappearance but there was nothing he could do about it.  
  
At that very moment Mattabas was feeling that particular brand of anger, annoyance and desperation. "You let them escape!" he fumed not only at Jerome but also for the first time Jesayba. "My lord, they did not escape, they only resisted the chant till we next meet. We now know they have a ring." She added brightly, wishing Jerome would go, so she could .satisfy her lord, Mattabas. "I don't want to tell that to Nakquan. First the orcs, then you, fail, what will be next I wonder. At that moment her head flung back she raised a few feat off the floor, and a red glow circled her, she answered in a deep eerie voice "You will defeat the dragon with only great loss, but eventually you will take Moria. Do so at your own peril, Moria does not hold with those she dislikes." He hated predictions, especially ones not totally in his favour (and this one, as he wasn't that smart, confused him). He decided that it was best not to tell Nakquan about the prediction not sure about how he would react, and told them not to mention the prediction to anyone.  
  
When they had gone, Alexbany entered, "What's this, my king, you are keeping something from my father." He silently swore, and outwardly composed his face, "What is it you want, my little sweet pea?" He crowed. They both hated it when he did that, for they both, thought married to each other, loved someone else. She ignored it and continued, "I want you to promise that if you meet a dragon, you'll talk to it first, rather than slaughtering the poor beast, I have always had a soft spot for dragons." That was a big thing to ask, a dragon is not one to play with. But, unfortunately for him, there was not much else he could do; Nakquan would kill him, if he knew Jesayba had tried, and failed to eliminate the threat posed by Adram and his friends. So, reluctantly, he agreed.  
  
As the party set out for a second time, to beseech the help of Smang, they knew not that they were sending him to certain death. On the road, Robinalf and Manguayia's affection became all the more obvious, and mine and Cinobac's fight the more foolish. We barely remembered what it was over. My divulsion, of whom the man was (my brother), I guess. Eventually after two weeks of silence I gave in. It seemed we are both were so simular that we chose the same moment to apologise. We sat together, by another conveniently located stream, and discussed how we had resisted that chant what seemed like months ago. We decided that we had somehow worked in unison, and, aided by the ring, had resisted a powerful chant from two practised wizards. The only explanation was that the ring had somehow bonded us (or something else had), and, unlike the traditional reaction when two sorcerers joined their magic (each fighting for control), we had worked together (somehow heightening each other's power, and sharing control).  
  
Reaching Smang lair we went in the way we had come careful not to wake the orcs stationed outside (I had used my new found power to help, in this instance) Smang greeted us, and inquired on how we had been. After a lengthy discussion on the past, Smang queried us on the future. "You have visited me, that is true, but is there not a purpose that brings you here. I hardly thing you would make the journey, in the middle of a war, just to see me." Smang sensed how nervous we were, humans are always cautious around him, "it's not like I'll bite your head off." He paused and waited, then continued as no one took him up in his offer to help. "Really I don't mind, if there is anything I could do to help ." He left it hanging, and a few seconds later everyone burst out at once. After quiet had fallen once again, I outlined the plan. He chuckled, "You wish me to fly, searing into Eriador, and flame the castle," he smiled, not a particularly pleasant grin, "sounds like fun." I considered that a bad omen, over confidence always is. "We are asking," big stress on that word, "you don't have to, and if you do, be careful." Smang looked at me wily, was that for his safety or Cinobac's sanity, he knew that Cinobac wouldn't be happy if he died. Surprisingly I blushed, and Smang's grin, if possible, widened, "of course I will be careful. I want to come back and see you all, living happily ever after, after you reclaim the throne, for Adram." In that sentence was his unequivocal approval.  
  
We happily started back for Rivendale the next day. The birds were singing, the sky was blue, and everything seemed to be going our way. A sure fire sign that we had a big surprise, and not a good one, coming.  
  
On the road, travelling swiftly was his army of orcs; he had broken his promise to Alexbany and was sending them to kill the dragon. Mattabas was someone not to be trusted. Overhead the dragon flew, straight at Eriador, he passed the army, and couldn't resist singing the back few lines, before flying on to the castle. The towns and court people saw him coming and fled. In the castles highest tower, Jerome and Jesayba sat, hand in hand, a ring of ice between them. It expanded at the last second, as the dragon aimed down and let out a huge burst of flame, the fire bounced of the shield of ice. Roaring his frustration, he flamed again, then again, in his last effort, he saw a gap, and clawed his way in, forced his gold plated body threw the crack. He would claim his vengeance.  
  
Meanwhile, I was happily thinking of a hot bath and showers, as we were on the last leg of their journey back to Rivendale, when Cinobac stopped. I stared as a look of anguish so intense came over him. We decided to stop there for the night, and as the sun began to set, out of the darkening sky, flew Smang, his wings a bloodied mess and on closer inspection an arrow in his chest, somehow, guided by Jesayba, it had found a way threw this golden armour. He slumped to the ground, "May you avenge my death, and live happily . together." His last word a low hiss, for Cinobac and me alone.  
  
As he lay there his eyes glassed over and shut. Cinobac cold and silent walked away, and sat down on a nearby rock, the rest of our party dispersed to set up camp, while I performed the most advanced piece of magic yet.  
  
"Through years of stone, and years of fire, The dragon lived, and prospered higher. Now he lies in eternal sleep, And all who know his spirit weep, Thought death has taken him away, He will with us forever stay."  
  
I added in half a whisper, "Those who love him will never cease, till his vengeance is laid at peace." I made my way over to Cinobac, "leave me alone," he said, I fought back my tart reply, "You are not the only one, who misses him." I said softly, Cinobac frowned "I'm going home. Why did we send him, it was all your idea, you killed him." He accused me. I sighed, "He is not gone! Until the sun rises when his vengeance is settled, he will not be at peace." I added softly, "Does he like what he sees? Does he look down and feel proud? Would he want you to give up?" I paused, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." It's one of my favourite quotes.  
  
It seemed Cinobac was not the only one distressed by Smang's passing, "You killed him! You killed him! You sent your army, and then when he eluded them and came for you, you killed him. And Jesayba . may never be the same. You cursed, cursed thing. What did I do to deserve you?" Mattabas sighed; he would never hear the end of this. Alexbany hadn't finished yet, "That's it, I'm leaving, I've had it up to here, with you and my father. You're all evil!" And with that she left, storming out, packed up her things and riding off into the sunset, before he could protest. What would he tell Nakquan? He proposed to make some good news to combat the bad; (if he considered the loss of his obstinate daughter bad) Moria was about to be claimed in his name. He reluctantly sent Jesayba, she needed the time to heal, after that last thrust against the dragon, not that taking Moria would be easy. He would have to but up with Jerome as guard.  
  
They both arrived at Rivendale at the same time; Adram courteously gave way to the pretty lady that now preceded him. Upon meeting the council, they already knew of Smang's death and something we didn't; Nakquan, the king of the unknown land, was behind the threat to our party, and claimed to achieve what Sauron had failed to do, take over middle earth. With such lovely thoughts crowding about my head (the end of middle-earth as we know it), I noticed that Adram and Alexbany, the daughter of Nakquan, wife of the Mattabas (the guy that displaced Adram from the throne) - and the one that informed us of Nakquan, his power, his army, and his desire to take over the world (Not bad for one person) were spending a lot of time together.  
  
When we heard rumours that Moria had been taken and was being used as a strong hold, desperation stuck in.  
  
The council was convened, their tune had certainly changed from when we first proposed to combat Mattabas, only we had seen him as a threat, "We have a serious problem; Nakquan. We are proposing to ride against him, and take him out before he gains any more power, that being said, he already has a large group of followers" that being a bit of an understatement, as he has the support of his country "and an even bigger army. We will put it to the vote." It was a sign of how desperate the situation was that it was unanimous. Nakquan, and Mattabas were officially declared a threat to the middle-earth.  
  
Jesayba rode on a horse that was as black as the night, her robes shimmered as if imbedded with black diamonds, and her skin, when it was visible, was the pure white of snow. By the dim light of the moon her light was blinding, until the image was seared on to the backs of your eyes. She rode alone, her army (Mattabases really, but under her command), on her decree, were 3 miles behind - and glad of it. By the time they arrived Moria was deserted, all who had seen her had fled in terror, all who hadn't were dead. The ring was all Jesayba could think of it occupied her every thought, that and the power she had when she held it, she would never let it go.  
  
At the dead of night, I, dressed as a warrior maiden, left Rivendale, determined to seek out, and kill, my brother. The person, who had betrayed me, I wanted revenge. But also, I reasoned that if he (and his ring) were eliminated, the alliance would stand a better chance, in the war that was yet to start. By the time I had reached Moria, everyone in Rivendale, knew of my quest, the little note I left kind of gave it a way, and despaired, they did not think I could do it, with the noticeable exception of Cinobac and Elrond.  
  
I gripped my bow tight, and had an arrow ready, if I were to die, it would not have been in vain; I would have finally proved my worth, skill and courage. No one could mock me then. I was not unprepared, the map I had left behind (with the short note) described my entrance, and they had under estimated my sneakiness. I was through Moria, before they knew I was there, and, in true hero style, I left the way open for fellow travellers, it would help to take Moria back, I thought happily and optimistically, and traipsed on.  
  
Back at Rivendale, Cinobac discovered the hidden meaning in my map, the pass of Moria, and its unknown entrance, he believed me alive (as he had all along, he would not give me up for dead), and set off to help me, isn't he sweet. He had barely put a step outside the elfin city when Elrond appeared, "You do not have the silent feet of an elf." He reprimanded, Cinobac fought back his frustration; "I will rescue her, even if you all think it hopeless." Elrond smiled, and taunted despite his better sense, "and if she doesn't need rescuing." Cinobac went red, ha had gone a bit to far, "Never fear, I will not stop you; I will help you. You are stout of heart and I think, as Robinalf is always raving about your power, you may master this ring, Narya; it will yield to you, only as long as you are its master, if you lose control. Take it at your own peril." Silently, Cinobac reached out, at first he thought Elrond was kidding, but finally accepted the ring, and Elrond's good will, "Thank you, I will serve Celica well by it." Elrond smiled, (he had learnt a large vocabulary of smiles over the years) "You are your own master, Celica is not your master, she is your friend." A very good friend, and with that Elrond disappeared. Cinobac carefully put the ring into his pocket, and set off for the secret entry to Moria, described in the map, if Celica could do it so could he. Cinobac did not fare so well and had to fight his way out over the last bridge, but he did make it. He was certain that Celica had done the same, if she hadn't made it, wouldn't they have been guarding the pass? He rested for three days and three nights till his arrow wound in his leg was almost as good as new and then could wait no more, he went on, as determined as ever, to rescue his.friend. The white council was yet again convened, an record number of times in the past year, Moria was confirmed taken by the enemy, and it was decided, over much debate, to hit hard and fast, to take Moria back, so as not to let them have a foothold - the war began. Ten thousand men, two thousand elves, and the last of the dwarves, they would not, and could not (or the freedom of middle-earth would come to an end) be beaten.  
  
Seeing them coming Jesayba, not willing to risk herself, and her precious ring, fled back to Methundi, her home, leaving the army to fight. Celica saw her coming, her horse going as fast as the wind, her black clock billowing behind her, and the look of terror on her face, she was determined not to lose 'her' ring (the one she had on loan from Jerome). Celica waited till she was near, then shot the arrow, it was bang on target. Then everything seemed to slow down, and the arrow came to a stop in front of Jesayba, then fell, useless, to the ground. Celica strung another arrow ready, and encircled herself, in a bubble shield. Jesayba, laughing insanely, corrupted totally by the ring, casually bent the bubble inwards. Celica, sweat beading on her forehead held firm, "without your present from your, deceased friend, you are no match for me." Jesayba taunted, Celica ignored, and endured, she had to beat Jesayba, for Smang's vengeance (that Jesayba talked so casually about) if nothing else. She let the next arrow fly, and, like the first, it fell immobile to the ground, Jesayba grinned. Celica, determined to win, held on to her shield and tested Jesayba's, it was solid, the best strontian shield she had ever seen. Celica remembered reading something about them; the shield was a warp in time. Anything entering the field slowed down and unless it had the required velocity, fell to the ground. If her arrow wasn't fast enough, not much would be, there wasn't much Celica could do, but hold on, and pray for the best. When Jesayba (always being one for drama) started throwing lightning bolts, Celica had an idea; maybe they had the speed to penetrate the shield. Unfortunately, if they did it would fry the ring as well; I suppose it was better than being fried alive. When Celica's shield started to glow red, and she felt on the edge of collapsing, Jesayba rounded on her, "and so it ends, the valiant Celica, beaten in the end by the best sorcerer of all time; me." And with that she readied her self for the last bolt, the biggest most powerful yet. Celica, summoning up the last of her power, created the mirror, a simple spell, to beat a simple girl, she thought as Jesayba sent her bolt at her. She watched with bated breath as in the blink of an eye it rebounded and rammed threw Jesayba's shield, disintegrated its creator.  
  
Celica lay where she was, exhausted again, this time she was unable to sleep, her hand slowly moved to the pile of ash, and after a few minutes she uncovered the ring - unharmed. With the ring continued on her way to Methundi, battling the sea and mountains with her now over whelming power, even greater since her last encounter, and her new acquisition. Jerome (the self centred bastard) had retreated to Methundi on the pretence of looking after Nakquan, leaving Mattabas and his army alone, to fight the regroup alliance, not joined since the war of the great ring.  
  
Celica after days of trekking (she didn't trust her power, after the fight, enough to fly), had not gone more than a few paces into Methundi when her brother appeared ahead, a change had come about him, he no longer had the carefree young, hansom man, he now carried the look of a worn man, the wrinkles about his eyes a testimony to the troubles he had encountered. He drew himself up tall; he was, as always, proud, "Sister you come to join us?" He asked, his power holding her at bay, She lashed out her power, after her recent battle, still left a lot to be desired, and he blocked easily, "Your power was always weaker than mine," he taunted her, and silently added ' so was Jesayba's'. "Jerome, what you are doing is wrong, I will not let it continue," Celica called out, her will was as strong as always. He only laughed, "Who are you to judge what is wrong and right. Can you stop me" He spied 'his' ring, " You even bring me a gift, for you could not hope to wheeled a great ring against its owner." She smiled he had forgotten back in the days when they were yet young,  
  
Celica (13) was wandering aimless about, her brother (18) being his usually annoying self, had tricked her into exploring a cave, and he had rolled a boulder over the opening. Celica, scared and blind had stumbled her way about her hands feeling afore her. When she found the ring, she had managed, even at that young age, to, using a dim light, find her way back to the entrance and move the bolder. Jerome had 2 weeks later taken the ring from her, in an act of vengeance for escaping his trap, he never found out how.  
  
  
  
A lance shot at him, rattling to the ground when it hit his shield, "you'll have to do better than that." He taunted her, Celica only smiled. They drew their swords and spun, the wind whirling them higher, there magic keeping them up, and locked in combat. The rain tearing down upon them, as they rose, fighting for the freedom of middle-earth. Dashing and spinning, each looking for a brake, their magic's locked tight. Celica scored the first blow, down the side of his leg, a red line, not serious. It distracted her for the second necessary, and she was down, caught aptly with a spinning kick, she looked up to see him standing there, "Sister of mine, this is how it ends," he bent down and whispered, "I was always better than..." He stopped, eyes boggling, throat gulping, a lance threw his heart. Cinobac helped the shaking girl to her feat, and they stumbled on, determined to win.  
  
The battle at Moria was fierce, the casualties on both sides mounting, the alliance forced on, taking down the enemy, one by one, nothing would stop them. Back at the palace, in Eriador, the fighting was almost as bad. Mattabas, in his royal robes, streaked with blood, stood alone, cornered by his own throne, yet determined to win. Mangayia, closest, came on; everyone else was occupied with his army of orcs. They fought, the last chance of the free people of middle-earth. Parry and thrust, one after another, Mattabas was cornered by a female Elf, little did he know it was the infamous Mangayia, one of the party led by Celica, his indication, made him faster and stronger, and as she lay their breathing her last breath, Robinalf pulled free, yelling obscenities he pounced, determined to avenge his lovers death. He knelt by her face, "Everything will be all right, and you'll get better. It will all be fine." He whispered, tears streaming down his face, as her life force dimmed and left her. He looked up into the eyes of her cold-blooded killer, he was not happy. He rose and the two men circled, one renowned for his fighting, the other for his sorcery. Who would be the victor, one wild with grief, the other fighting for his crown and life? They circled, Mattabas broke first, trying for an opening, and was swiftly repelled by Robinalf, he may not be as good as Celica, but a second rate wizard he was not. Holding tightly on to his sword he ducked and weaved, kept safe by his newly created armour he came up, under his guard, and drove his sword threw Mattabases heart, Mangayia's death was avenged. Around him the fighting was renewed, without Mattabas, the alliance was winning.  
  
Nakquan swore, first Jesayba, then Mattabas, he would have to send out the big guns, his eyes narrowed - he would win. Celica and Cinobac stood outside the door, their heaviest shields up, and their deadly weapons ready. "Come in," a voice grated, Nakquan was also prepared.  
  
In Moria the fighting was fierce, as the alliance was forcing their way into the mines, a huge wind rose up, and out of Middle-Earth sprung up ten hideously malformed monsters, half orc, half balrog, Nakquan's creation, controlled by him alone. As they swiped their axes left, then right, massacring the people of the alliance, Adram, tall and proud stood surrounded, he was not to be risked. When they got down to him he screamed as he charged, he would not go down without a fight. Alexbany, watching from afar, held her breath, if he died so would she, she vowed. Comforted by the nearby Acacia, who was in turn was comforted as Cornelius, her husband and long time love, was wiped out.  
  
Celica and Cinobac stood together defiant, hand in hand, as if by love they could defeat Nakquan. "Come, watch them die," a vision appeared hovering above the stone, centred in the room, it flickered from image to image, showing first Mangayia dead and Robinalf weeping, then Cornelius dieing to try to save Adram, and as Adram came into view, Celica looked up. Deep into the cold black eyes of the murdering beast that stood defiant before here, and flung a lightning bolt at him aiming to get him as far away from her self as she could, he disappeared, and then reappeared on the balcony. She charged, maddened beyond belief, and shielded herself from him with her power. Cinobac screamed as Nakquan, unable to attack Celica, attacked him. Cinobac held on to Nakquan through his power (they were both locked in magical combat) and as Nakquan started to over power him, Celica charged like a bull, she would not let him get away. In the middle of the room, flickering in to view was Adram, he began to run, and the beasts surrounded him, desperate he charged towards his death (he was hoping to take out at least one before he was felled). Nakquan fell, his scream tearing as he fell down from the tall tower, down to the sea below.  
  
Adram stormed at the hideous thing, sword in hand, but by the time he reached there it was gone, and in its place sand drifting in the breeze.  
  
The wedding bells tolled as Adram and his new wife Alexbany walked happily down the aisle. After the happy ceremony Elrond spoke, "It's what needed to be done, is done; the rings are destroyed or in safe hands. I will leave, like all my kind to Aman, my quest is accomplished." Robinalf rose, his face, still tear stained, did not look up. "I will go with you to Aman." He stated, no one said anything. Celica danced, a ring (although not a great one, like the one on her and Cinobac's hands) in her pocket, she was about to break tradition and ask Cinobac to marry him. "Have you seen Cinobac?" She began asking, he was late. He said he would meet her at the balcony by 10:00pm it was now 11:00pm. It seemed he had disappeared. A horrible thought occurred, and she ran to their room. Back in her room she read the short note written in Cinobac's loopy hand, then, with a despairing cry, ran to the docks in time to see the boat carrying Robinalf, Elrond, and Cinobac (with his friend, the dragon's ashes cradled in his arms) leave. She leapt into the nearest boat, and rowed after him, she was not going to be left behind. Men, they always underestimate you! What is life without love? She would be happy if she was with him, wherever they went.  
  
And so the last ring left middle Earth, leaving behind a world where magic was slowly disappearing, where dwarves stuck to their caves, and elves married humans, a place where eventually, like the war of the great ring, their tale would become legend, then myth, and eventually be forgotten. As all things eventually die, so to do tales, and magic, and dragons, and dwarves. Only men, still lives on middle-earth today, and they do not believe in dreams.  
  
Megan Dawson 9C 


End file.
